


Revenge of the Kurgan

by dairesfanficrefuge_archivist



Category: Highlander - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-12-17
Updated: 1998-12-17
Packaged: 2018-12-18 06:08:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11868273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist/pseuds/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atDaire's Fanfic Refuge. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDaire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile.





	Revenge of the Kurgan

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

Revenge of the Kurgan by Jason De La Torre

| 

Revenge of the Kurgan 

by JC De La Torre 

A 

© De La Publishing short. 

NOTE: The events in this story take place shortly after the events in _Duel to the Death_. 

* * *

_**Paris, 1998**_

Duncan and Methos sat together contemplating the events that had occurred the night before. Methos had talked Duncan's mentor and kinsman, Connor MacLeod, out of the idea of taking Duncan's head. It was the closest Duncan had ever come to defeat and it haunted him. He knew he would have to face Connor again and for perhaps the first time, considered the consequences of facing the elder Highlander. Was Methos right? Was the fact that Connor had trouble beating him even after a recent - and powerful - quickening proof enough that he could beat him? The inner demons of having to take yet another friend's head scared him. He took his pupil's...now would he take his mentor's? There can be only one...the words haunted him. Connor loved the phrase but Duncan did not. For Duncan MacLeod, the phrase meant he would have to kill Methos, Amanda, and even Connor some day. All the friends and allies he made through the years. All the good immortals. They would have to lose their heads for him to be the _one_. Could he be that one? Could he live with all those deaths on his blade? He could barely live with himself after the senseless death of Richie. 

Methos sipped on the 18th century wine Duncan shared with him as they talked. Methos knew Duncan was afraid. There wasn't too many of them left. He could feel the urge to kill and he knew sooner or later he and MacLeod would have to face each other. They talked about it. When the time came...could Methos face him? Methos answered him that they may not have the choice. It was in their blood...like a sixth sense...the urge to claim The Prize. Duncan looked at his friend as he emptied the bottle. They had faced so much together. Duncan had only known Methos for a short time, but valued him as a close friend. The best friend. Sure, Dawson was a good friend, but he could never understand. Not like Methos. 

"Do you think it will come down to Connor and I, Methos?" Duncan asked his friend in between gulps of the wine. 

"I certainly hope not!" Methos chuckled, "That would mean I was dead!" 

"Seriously..." Mac growled. 

"I am being serious!" Methos chuckled again, "MacLeod, I may see you as the _great hope_ for mankind, but that doesn't mean I want to lose my head before you get there!" 

"Can I beat him?" MacLeod wondered aloud. 

"Oh Duncan," Methos sighed having to go through it all over again. "We've been over this a hundred times. It's hard to say who's better. It depends on the circumstances you face each other. I say you're better, but then again, you are the _great hope_! I'm a bit biased." 

"He beat The Kurgan..." Mac continued, "I could've never beaten the Kurgan." 

"Oh, yes you could've..." 

"No, I couldn't. I faced the Kurgan once before," Mac quickly replied, "He was much too powerful. His strength...his power...I couldn't have..." 

"You know as much as I do that it takes more then that," Methos replied. "I also faced the Kurgan and yes...he was the most powerful of all the immortals. He was also the most overconfident." 

"You faced the Kurgan?" Mac asked, a bit stunned by the revelation. 

"Yes...I never told you about that?" 

"No," Mac replied. "Go on....what happened?" 

"Well...let's see," Methos replied as he searched his memory. "It had to be about..." 

* * *

_**Moscow, 1528** _

Methos ran for his life as the madman known as the Kurgan chased him into the night. 

"COME ON ANCIENT ONE!" the psychopath growled as he chased Methos down a dark passage, "FIGHT LIKE A WARRIOR!" 

Methos never saw the wall blocking his passage as he looked back to see the Kurgan stalk towards him. Methos slammed face-first into the wall and fell roughly on his backside. He had no weapon, no refuge...could this be the end after 5,000 years? 

"NOWHERE TO RUN NOW...HAHAHA!" The Kurgan growled. 

"You may take my head, but you'll never know my secret..." Methos quickly replied. 

"I'LL KNOW ALL OF YOUR SECRETS IN A SHORT TIME, METHOS!" Kurgan replied, his words dripping in darkness. 

"Not this one...not about the chosen one!" Methos quickly replied as he searched desperately for some way out of this mess. 

"YOU'RE JUST TRYING TO DELAY THE INEVITABLE --" 

"No! It's true! Ramirez told me..." Methos cried. 

"RAAAMEEEREEZ!" The Kurgan growled the Egyptian's name like it was a plague. Oh yes, he knew of Ramirez. "AND WHAT DID THE SILVER TONGUED RAMIREZ TELL YOU, ANCIENT ONE?" 

"There's a child...a child born in the Highlands of Scotland ten years ago..." 

"AND HE CAN WALK ON WATER AND HEAL THE SICK," growled Kurgan, "I'VE HEARD THIS ONE BEFORE! YOU LIE!" 

"No wait!" Methos cried as he braced for the Kurgan's death blow, "The child...the Highlander...Ramirez said he will be the one to win The Prize." 

"IMPOSSIBLE! HOW CAN HE KNOW THIS?" the Kurgan growled and turned away from Methos. "THE HIIIIIIIGHLANDER. MORE POWERFUL THEN ME? IMPOSSIBLE!" 

With the Kurgan's back turned to him, Methos inched closer to him and gently slipped the small dagger in Kurgan's belt and concealed it in his hand. 

"Yes...according to Ramirez...this Highlander...Connor MacLeod," Methos smiled. "He's going to take your head." 

"NOOOOOOO! LIES!" the Kurgan growled as the blade of his gigantic sword struck out at Methos. The 5,000 year old immortal was well prepared for the Kurgan's reaction and dove safely to the ground as his opponents weapon imbedded itself into the wall. As the giant struggled to release his weapon, Methos slipped behind him and plunged the dagger into his opponents broad back and threw the black colored armor. 

"AARGH!" The Kurgan growled at Methos, "I'LL GET YOU METHOS! AND THE HIGHLANDER! I'LL KILL YOU BOTH! YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!" 

"No, I'll be long gone by the time you wake up and like Ramirez said...you have a date with Connor MacLeod!" Methos chuckled as he left the dying Giant in front of him. 

"I WANT THE HIIIIIIIGHLANDER!" Kurgan growled as temporary death over took him. 

* * *

**Paris, 1998**

"So you ran from him like a coward?" Duncan laughed. 

"No...I...I was unarmed!" Methos defended himself. "You honestly expect me to face the _Kurgan_ unarmed? Are you crazy?" 

"Of course not, old friend," Duncan chuckled. "But you made up that stuff about Connor didn't you?" 

"No...of course not!" 

"So you're telling me Ramirez foretold that Connor would defeat The Kurgan and win The Prize?" the smile slipped from Duncan's face as he read Methos' reaction to the question. "You can't be serious." 

"I am..." Methos reluctantly replied, knowing the progress of the conversation had the potential to blow up in his face. "Ramirez did tell me Connor would beat Kurgan." 

"And win The Prize..." Duncan finished for him. "The prophecy came true...." 

"Well...no...no it didn't...EXACTLY," Methos searched for a response. "Connor beat the Kurgan but it wasn't for The Prize." 

"Connor told me the Kurgan's quickening was so intense, he truly believed he had won The Prize..." Duncan said as the words of his kinsman haunted him. 

"Well, Ramirez didn't exactly say Connor would win The Prize..." Methos replied thinking back to his encounter with the famous immortal. 

"What exactly did he say?" Duncan asked as he glared at Methos for holding something back. 

"Well..." Methos reluctantly continued... 

* * *

_**Spain, 1518** _

"I am Juan Sanchez Villa-Lobos Ramirez....who are you?" Ramirez called out to the unknown immortal, his katana drawn ready for an attack. The courtyard was barren except for the figure that tipped Ramirez's senses. 

"You won't need that, Ramirez. I haven't come to take your head." The figure replied...the face still unknown to Ramirez. "Has it been so long Tak-Ne? Has it been so long you don't remember me?" 

"It's been a long time since someone's called me by that name..." Ramirez remarked thoughtfully as he idled his blade. "There's only a few who could possibly know that name...Methos?" 

Methos smiled as he embraced Ramirez. It had been so long...so very long since he last saw the Egyptian. 

"How are you, old friend?" Ramirez laughed as he put his arm around his old friend. "Come, let's talk." 

Methos followed Ramirez through the courtyard and to his home. After a large meal and swap of old stories, Ramirez wondered why a friend he had not seen over 1500 years wanted a forum with him. 

"What brings you to me, Methos?" Ramirez asked. 

"Well," Methos chuckled, "I know about you becoming the chief metallurgist for King Charles the Fifth...I just wanted to congratulate you." 

"Oh, that's still two years away...they want me to wait until they execute the current one...they're going to behead him, you know!" Ramirez laughed. "What a revolting way to die..." 

"Why don't they just do it now?" 

"I don't know...something about the Queen being in love with him." Ramirez laughed again. "If she was in love with that slug...wait till she gets a hold of me!" 

Methos laughed at the old man's comment. Ramirez had always been the ladies man. 

"Ah, my old friend, it's good to have you here," Ramirez continued as he poured Methos some more wine. "But I sense there is another reason you have graced me with your presence." 

"You could always read me, Tak Ne." Methos chuckled. 

"Indeed!" 

"There is another matter," Methos continued. "The Kurgan." 

"Ah...the Kurgan..." Ramirez sighed as the name escaped his lips. "That's definitely something to be troubled about." 

"He's in Moscow....taking all the heads he can." Methos continued. 

"Yes, I know. He's grown very powerful." Ramirez responded sighing again as to not really being concerned. 

"Tak Ne...something has to be done. If he or Kronos or another evil immortal..." 

"Don't worry about the Kurgan," Ramirez interrupted, "He will not win The Prize." 

"How can you be sure?" 

"Because, my dear Methos...I _know_ who will win in the end. And I'm afraid to say it will not be myself or you." Ramirez replied without feeling. 

"What? How do you know this?" Methos replied, stunned at Ramirez's comments. 

"Nakano, my mentor, has the power to foresee the future," Ramirez replied. "I made the mistake of asking him what my destiny held...and despite his protests, I know who will win." 

"Well..." 

"Methos, you need not worry about these things," Ramirez laughed. "All you need to concern yourself with is that the Kurgan will die at the hands of a Highlander." 

"A Highlander?" Methos thought back to his acquaintances. "I know of no immortal Highlander..." 

"That's because," Ramirez laughed, "he was born _this year_. MacLeod's the name...Connor MacLeod." 

"MacLeod..." Methos let the name float in his mind for a second. "And this MacLeod...he will win The Prize?" 

Ramirez laughed again. "Methos," he continued, "you will not rest until you know will you? I will tell you this...two Highlander immortals have great destinies...and one will win The Prize." 

"Two? And who's the other Highlander immortal?" 

"I don't know...he has not been born," Ramirez replied. "But I do know that I will have to train Connor MacLeod in our ways...prepare him to face the Kurgan. Once he dies for the first time...I'll be there. Don't worry about the Kurgan, Methos. Connor MacLeod will see to it the evil bastard loses his head." 

"And my death? Who will kill me, Tak Ne?" 

"You don't need to know, Methos. You don't want to know." Ramirez replied. 

"Is it you?" Methos bristled as he waited for the response. 

"No...not me. Kurgan will make sure of that," Ramirez uneasily chuckled. "I'll be long gone before you face the afterlife, Methos." 

* * *

**Paris, 1998**

"So one of us will be the winner..." Duncan whispered thoughtfully, almost embarrassed by Ramirez' revelation. 

"Yes, if you believe that stuff." Methos quickly replied. 

"And you don't?" 

"I believe you are our best hope, Duncan. That's my belief," Methos replied. "As to the other stuff. Who knows?" 

"Did he ever tell you who was going to take your head?" 

"All he said was it would be one of the Highlanders..." he quickly replied. 

"Methos, you don't think -" Mac didn't have to finish. Methos didn't know if it would be Connor or his good friend Duncan MacLeod. Hell, Duncan didn't know himself. If he could kill Richie... 

"Anyway," Methos continued, "you said you had your own run-in with the Kurgan?" 

"Yeah, I did," Mac replied, "It was a year before I met Tessa...before he found Connor..." 

* * *

_**Paris, 1982** _

Duncan MacLeod sat quietly as he waited for Darius to complete his priestly duties and return to their chess match. Duncan always looked forward to these encounters, it gave him the opportunity to pick the brain of one of the oldest living immortals. To find out what life was like before there was a Duncan MacLeod. Besides, he felt he was just about to checkmate his savvy opponent. 

Suddenly, his thought processes were interrupted by a disturbance in the church and the sensation of an amazingly powerful immortal. As Duncan darted out of Darius' chamber, he was stunned to witness his friend in the clutches of this gigantic...monster of a man dressed in black with a scar around his neck. 

"WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS THE HIIIIIGHLANDER?" the monster growled at Darius as the priest began gasping for air. 

"Right here..." Duncan responded quickly, "I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod...who are you?" 

"YOOOU? YOU'RE NOT THE ONE I WANT!" 

"Du---Duncan...RUN! He...he's...THE KURGAN!" Darius gasped, desperately trying to free himself from the deadly grip of one of the world's most powerful immortals. 

"So, you're the Kurgan?" Duncan growled. "Connor told me about you. Humph...well, I'm the only Highlander you'll find here." 

"GRRRRRAH!" the Kurgan exclaimed as he tossed Darius aside like a rag doll and approached the Highlander. "I'VE ABOUT HAD IT WITH SEARCHING FOR YOUR KINSMAN! TELL ME WHERE HE IS AND I'LL LET YOU LIVE...FOR NOW!" 

"Ha!" Duncan chuckled at the proposition. "Oh no, I don't think that's going to happen." 

"YOU'D CHALLENGE ME?" Kurgan smiled. "HAHAHAHAHA!" 

"Duncan - NO! YOU CAN'T!" Darius exclaimed in fear of losing his friend to the entity before him. 

"Yes...sure, why not?" Duncan smiled as he replied smartly. "There's a warehouse near the docks not to far from here. Why don't you meet me there tonight...about 8?" 

"HAHAHAHA!" the Kurgan laughed. "OH YES! I'LL BE THERE. AND BEFORE I KILL YOU, I'LL MAKE SURE YOU TELL ME WHERE I'LL FIND THE _REAL_ HIGHLANDER! HAHAHAHA!" 

"Heh...not likely." Duncan quipped as he watched the Kurgan storm out of the church. 

Duncan aided his friend in reaching his feet. As Darius dusted himself off and straightened his collar, he gave Duncan a stern look. 

"What?" the Highlander asked, sensing his friend's disapproval. 

"Are you crazy? He'll KILL you!" Darius barked. 

"Gee, thanks for the confidence." Duncan quipped. 

"Duncan, don't you know who he is? He's the most powerful immortal of them all!" Darius exclaimed. "You're not ready for him. You have to train..." 

"Train for how long, Darius?" MacLeod growled, "I've lived 400 YEARS -" 

"Lower your voice, this is a church!" Darius interrupted as he sensed the parishioners getting disturbed. 

"I've lived for 400 years," Duncan whispered as he continued. "I've faced every challenge and overcome them. I'm not about to run away from the Kurgan or anybody else for that matter. I want to do Connor a favor and take this guy out. Repay some of my debt to him. This is the Gathering, Darius. None of us are safe. Not even you. Why do you think you hide in this church as a priest?" 

"Is that what you think, MacLeod?" Darius growled back. "Is that what I am to you? A coward?" 

"No...no, that's not what I meant -" 

"No, I think it is!" Darius continued. "Duncan, I don't hide here in fear of losing my head. I am here because I am tired of the fighting. I'm tired of death. I want to just live in peace here in my little church for the rest of my life. I know it's the Gathering! I feel the pull...but I ignore it. I fight IT! That's my struggle now. I'm sorry you don't see it yourself. You will, Duncan. Trust me, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about." 

"We are who we are, Darius." Duncan replied, "You can't run from who you are. We have to fight and we have to win or die. There can be only one...remember that?" 

"Yes...I remember," Darius replied solemnly, "Do whatever you must." 

* * *

**Paris, 1998**

"He was right, you know." Duncan said as he thought back to his friend's words. "I do know what he means....now." 

"Yes, he was," Methos agreed, "but so were you. Where are who we are." 

"Yeah...I suppose so." 

"So you went to face the Kurgan?" Methos asked. 

"Yes, I did..." Duncan continued. "I remember it was a full moon..." 

* * *

_**Paris, 1982** _

MacLeod cautiously approached the entrance to the warehouse, his katana drawn and ready for anything. He had long since felt the buzzing of the Kurgan - he was there. Now it was just a question of where.... 

"HAHAHAHA...HIIIIIGHLANDER!" growled Kurgan as he sensed Duncan's presence. Kurgan flipped a switch and two dim lights flicker on...then off...then back on again, providing a dim light in the spacious abandoned warehouse. "HAHAHAHA...LET THERE BE LIGHT! I ALWAYS WANTED TO SAY THAT! HAHAHAHA!" 

Duncan smiled smugly at the Kurgan's attempt at humor and approached the center of the lower level of the warehouse. His opponent quickly joined him and drew his massive sword. 

"ANY LAST WORDS, HIGHLANDER? LIKE THE WHEREABOUTS OF YOUR KINSMAN? NEVER MIND...I ALREADY KNOW...HAHAHA!" Kurgan asked as he positioned his sword in an attack position. 

"Yeah...who's your tailor...I love that look!" Duncan laughed. 

"GRRRRRAH!" the Kurgan exclaimed as their swords clashed in a brilliant flash of light and a loud clank. The Kurgan unleashed a massive assault on the smaller Highlander, forcing him to back up in a defensive posture and simply block the blows. Strike after strike, blow after blow, the Kurgan willed himself on Duncan MacLeod, eliminating any amount of offense the Highlander could generate. 

"HAAHAHAHA! YOU DON'T DISAPPOINT, HIGHLANDER! YOU'RE GOOD!" the Kurgan growled as both to the opportunity to catch their breath. "BUT I'M BETTER!" 

The giant erupted in yet another volley of thrusts and again had MacLeod backpedaling to avoid each strike. Each blow from the most powerful of the immortals sent Duncan sprawling backwards and towards the wall of the warehouse. Duncan began to realize that the Kurgan was trying corner him, back him against the wall and finish him off. MacLeod took a quick look around, careful to make sure he kept his eyes on Kurgan to prepare for the next volley, but also to get an idea of his surroundings. MacLeod spotted a hole in the wall that lead out to the docks that he hadn't noticed when it was dark and began carefully positioning his body to move towards the hole as the Kurgan forced him backward. 

Clash after clash the battle raged on, the Kurgan was definitely the more powerful, but he could not find a way to penetrate the Highlander's defenses. The battle spilled out of the warehouse and onto the docks. Blow after blow, the two warriors exchanged volleys, neither seeming to gain the advantage until finally Duncan step sideways and sliced his blade into the Kurgan's right arm drawing blood. Kurgan stepped back, looked down at his injury and smiled wickedly. 

"OHHOHO...HIIIGHLANDER!" he growled. "YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT!" 

Kurgan launched yet another assault this time placing his strength in each clash of the blades. One after another, the attack kept coming, his blade began slamming down on Duncan MacLeod, driving him backward to the end of the dock, continuously dropping him to a knee with every blast. 

"DIE! DIE! DIE!" the Kurgan screamed with every thunderous clash of the swords. Duncan found himself at the edge of the dock, down on one knee, attempting to block every strike from the Kurgan until finally he could block no more... 

The Kurgan's blade came down hard on MacLeod's shoulder cutting deep into the tissue. The victor laughed wickedly as Duncan's katana fell by the wayside and plunged his sword deep into the fallen Highlander's chest. The Kurgan used his strength to lift up MacLeod off his knees via the blade of his sword and withdrew it...readying himself for the kill. 

"AND NOW...YOU DIIIIIIE!" The giant exclaimed as he lifted his sword over his head. "THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!" 

Before the blade could connect on it's mark, Duncan stepped backward, barely conscious, and plunged into the river below. MacLeod's body quickly sank to the bottom and out of the reach of the victor's sword. 

"DAMN YOU, MACLEOD!" the Kurgan growled. "YOUR DAY WILL COME....BUT I HAVE MORE PRESSING MATTERS TO ATTEND TO...NEW YORK...AND CONNOR MACLEOD....HAHAHAHAHA!" 

* * *

**Paris, 1998**

"My body washed ashore later that morning," Duncan continued. "Man, did it cause a fright to the coroner when I burst threw the body bag as they were wheeling me to the meat wagon." 

Methos chuckled at MacLeod's memory. 

"So, did the Kurgan ever come after you again?" he asked. 

"No...no, he went to New York to search for Connor. Three years of searching, he finally found him." Duncan replied thoughtfully. 

"Hmm...yes...yes, he did," the ancient one thought aloud. "It's one of the most celebrated stories in the Watcher chronicles. Though, I never knew he faced you beforehand." 

"Well, I don't know," Duncan laughed. "Maybe the Watcher assigned to me took a break!" 

"Yes...and he missed one of the most important battles in immortal history," Methos continued. "No...there must be a record of this somewhere. Maybe Joe knows..." 

"Yeah, maybe." 

They both grew silent for a moment, thinking of the stories they had just shared. 

"Well, I guess it's time for me to get going." Methos exclaimed as he prepared to excuse himself. 

"Methos..." Duncan replied, "I...just wanted to say...thanks." 

"For what?" 

"For talking to me," Duncan continued. "So it's really going to come down to Connor and I?" 

"Yes, if you believe that stuff." Methos quickly replied. 

"And he never told you who wins?" 

"Nope, he didn't. I have to go Duncan, take care!" Methos quickly excused himself, shook the Hhighlander's hand and left. 

He hated lying to Duncan. Ramirez told him who would win The Prize, but he couldn't dare tell Duncan. It could effect everything...if one of the Highlanders knew who won the final battle...it may never take place. It had to. Whether Duncan or Connor could live with this fact or not, there could be only one in the end. 

* * *

To Jason's Highlander Page 

© 1998   
Please send comments to the author! 

12/17/1998 

WebGraphics by Moyra 

* * *  
  
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